I have lived for twenty years, but my name has lived on for thirty-eight. I've lived only half of my existence, yet I have never wondered about a world beyond ours.
In this world, our futures are prewritten by an unknown source. We were written only for the entertainment of others—our history of the ones before us and our futures till death.
When Lou opened my eyes to the truth, I was in denial. How could my being, my feelings, be controlled by another? Had everything my family gone through for my sake? My deaths? Were what I felt for Alastair even the truth? Or was what I feel only created to continue the story?
I lay in Alastair's arms, looking out the window at the sky filled with stars. The moon never changes. Always the same bright silvery circle surrounded by the small twinkling lights. I wonder if the sky looks the same in everyone else's eyes. Or do they see more?
